


and then she was there.

by h34rt1lly (LILYisatig3r)



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Birthday, Birthday Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Post-Canon, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5498936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LILYisatig3r/pseuds/h34rt1lly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seifer suffers from nightmares, and on his birthday, Fujin decides to try and remind him of the good things in his life.</p>
<p>Seifer!fic in honor of his birthday, December 22nd (2015).</p>
            </blockquote>





	and then she was there.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Seifer! If we go by the game's NA release year, Seifer would be roughly 34. I can't be the only one who thinks he'd be a total babe in his thirties, am I right?
> 
> Thanks to Strings805 for beta-reading. 
> 
> Hope you guys like it! Figured the poor guy could use some fluff on his birthday.

_He was lost in the void._

_Smoky tendrils of fog curled around his legs, threatening to pull him under the inky, black nothingness beneath his feet. A potent, all-encompassing chill permeated the air that didn’t really exist, seeping into his bones, into his soul. He walked forward—aimlessly—to escape both the biting cold, and the snake-like arms of his worst memories. One foot in front of the other—over, and over again._

_It was the same dream every night. If he was lucky, the dreamscape remained unchanged...nothing else but the blank, gloomy expanse of his mind. Other nights, the dream morphed into something else: a nightmare. And in each nightmare, he was haunted by the same thing, the same person._

_Her. Ultimecia._

_When he took his ninth step, the dream transformed, just like he always feared it would. The tendrils of smoke became the arms of those he'd killed during the war while under her command, under her watchful eyes. Those eyes of molten gold that pierced his soul, drained his essence, and reshaped him into a puppet. Her puppet. Her_ toy _to pull left and right, without any regard to the state of his mind._

_He fought her—oh, how he fought against her. In the end, it didn’t matter. She owned him. She owned every memory that made him who he was; owned every facet of his personality, and twisted them into a man even he no longer recognized._

_Eventually, the arms won. The solid, dark ground beneath him turned into frigid waves of onyx liquid. It touched his skin, caressed him like her embrace. He was pulled under. After he was completely submerged, he floated listlessly through the vacuum of his memories, wishing more than anything that he would just wake up._

_Her sharpened, inhuman talons pierced his skin, tearing muscle and vital organs. She always healed him after, but the wounds left scars. They were left for him to remember his mistakes, she’d claimed. Her voice in his mind penetrated every fiber of his being, threatening to never let him go, to never let him be free. Hyne, how he wished he could drown in his dream. Just make it all go away, and he could revel in the eternal silence._

_“Why is it that you always disappoint me? Is it because you are not a true Knight? A true Knight...would’ve never failed...”_

_Another prick of pain._

_“I gave you so many chances, and yet, at every turn, you failed to do as I asked._

_Again, a wave of agony swept through him, radiating from the center of his chest outwards._

_“My Knight...my_ boy _...look at me.”_

_He felt her cold hands against his cheeks, and his eyes shot open. Not six inches away, her beautiful face—the face of the only mother he’d ever known—loomed before him. Just before she pressed her lips against his, she whispered against his skin, “I know you will not fail me again.”_

_Then, he was lost, pulled into her orbit once more._

_And the pain returned._

* * *

 “Seifer!”

Insistent hands nudged him in a vain attempt to wake him up.

“Please! Wake up!”

The voice was soft, almost unintelligible, but it was undoubtedly female. He thought she sounded familiar, but stuck in the limbo between the dream world and the real world, he couldn’t place whom it belonged to. She sounded worried.

“Please…”

A brush of hair against his chest pulled him closer to reality, and he marveled at how soft the strands felt, almost like the feathers on the collar of _her_ dress. But it wasn’t, and thankfully by this point, he knew that. He clung to that knowledge, and when he lifted his hands to tangle them in the woman’s hair, he noticed that it was short, chin-length... _not_ waist-length.

_Fuu…?_

With more difficulty than was likely normal, he fought to crack an eye open. When he finally managed to squint around the room, his vision was hazy, unfocused. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the veil of sleep from his eyes. A couple more tries, and he could finally see.

Above him hovered the faint silhouette of a woman, though her features were hidden in shadow. The curtains over the window behind her had been opened, and pale moonlight filtered into the room, offering little visibility _—_ in addition to obscuring her face. Still a bit disoriented, he brushed back her hair and was relieved when he saw her familiar crimson eye. A deep sigh left him, and when she realized he had fully woken from his nightmare, she echoed his sentiment.

“WORRIED.”

He rubbed a hand over his face and looked away, feeling just a bit too vulnerable to meet her gaze at the moment. “I know.”

“NIGHTMARE?”

A beat passed, and he stared up at the ceiling, tracing the patterns in the plaster with his eyes. Finally, he begrudgingly admitted, “Always.”

Her delicate, gentle hands combed through his hair, and he turned into her touch, grateful for not only her presence, but her understanding. He rarely wanted to talk about it after he woke up, and she never pushed. She didn’t have to. She’d been there through most of it, supported him for the sole reason that it was _—had been—_ his dream. Only at the very end did she leave his side, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d deserved it.

It wasn’t until after time-compression had been lifted, and she and Raijin had found him, that he’d realized how desperate she’d felt at the time. Hell, he hadn’t even realized how desperate _he’d_ felt, then.

They laid there for Hyne-knew how long, with her lovingly tracing her fingers through his hair, and he floating back and forth between consciousness and unconsciousness. Every time he almost fell asleep, his mind would jump back, clinging desperately to reality. This happened a few times before Fujin whispered, “Sleep. I’ll be here.”

Relaxed by her ministrations, and drained from his earlier nightmares, he fell asleep again within minutes.

* * *

When he next woke, sunshine permeated the room, warming the air to a temperature just slightly past comfortable. Sluggishly, he reached out for Fujin, surprised to find that her side of the bed was already empty. After he kicked off the comforter, he sat up, grunting when he realized that she was indeed gone.

He rubbed his eyes none-too-gently, frustrated that he still felt exhausted, despite the fact that he’d slept without interruption the second time around. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a piece of paper on Fujin’s pillow. With a raised eyebrow, he grabbed it and read her neat, tiny scrawl. She was one of the only people he knew who wrote in all caps, but somehow managed to legibly squeeze her words all on one line.

* * *

_Seifer,_

_If you’re reading this, I assume you’re awake. One, Happy Birthday. Two, head to the cafe at the hotel once you’re ready. You’ll find your next clue there._

_Fujin._

* * *

Confused, he furrowed his eyebrows and re-read the note. _Clue? What the hell? What is this, some sort of scavenger hunt?_

At first, irritation flared up in him. He didn’t have time to go gallivanting across the island on a scavenger hunt. Knowing Fujin though, she’d never let him live it down if he didn’t participate. Plus, he had to admit that a tiny part of him was curious as to what she was up to. With renewed energy, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and rose to his feet.

Quickly, he showered and dressed, wondering where he’d put his trademark metal choker. Within thirty minutes, he was out the door _—_ sans necklace _—_ and heading down the street to the hotel. As he passed by the recently-built cafe that was attached to the hotel, he peered past the open patio to the interior, trying to see if she and Raijin were sitting inside. When he didn’t spot them, he crossed his arms and continued to glare at the cafe, as if hoping the next clue would just appear.

To his surprise, it did. The maître d' appeared, gesturing for Seifer to follow him into the cafe. With a frown, he acquiesced, and the man seated him at a table on the open patio. He left without offering him a menu, and Seifer shifted in his seat, equal parts confused and irritated.

A few minutes later, a waitress came out and, despite the fact that it was eleven in the morning, set a glass of whisky on the rocks in front of him, followed by a tenderloin steak _—_ his favorite meal. Before she could walk away, he called out, “Hey, wait.”

She faced him again, waiting for him to continue speaking. He gestured to the food and asked, “What’s with all this? It sure as hell ain’t breakfast.”

“Special order, sir. It’s already been paid for,” she reassured him with a smile, and then headed back towards the kitchen.

“What the hell is going on?” he muttered. Still, the steak smelled delicious, so he picked up his silverware and started eating. It was medium-rare, exactly how he loved his steak.

_This has to be Fuu’s doing. Is this supposed to be my next clue?_

When he was almost finished with his food, the waitress reappeared. This time, however, she placed a piece of paper on the table in front of him before returning to the kitchen. He followed her with his eyes, suspicious for some odd reason. She was likely doing exactly what she’d been told, but he hated surprises, and that made him wary of every person involved. Next thing he knew, a wild chocobo would go barrelling down the streets of Balamb, some part of the surprise gone wrong.

Then again, that sounded more like Little Miss Sunshine than Fujin.

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed your steak. I know how much you love the cafe’s tenderloin. Also, it was expensive to get them to cook it outside of dinner hours, so you better have eaten it all._

_Your next stop is the shop where you bought me my first present, when we were younger. Do you remember?_

_If you don’t, we’re going to have to talk._

* * *

Seifer chuckled. He could practically hear her reading the note to him in a stern voice, her silver eyebrows furrowed. His prior irritation at being sent on a scavenger hunt was starting to dissipate, and he found that he was eager to get to his next location and see what else she’d cooked up.

When he’d first arrived at the cafe, he’d been pissed about the entire ordeal just because it felt like such a _girl_ thing to do. Weren’t the boyfriends supposed to be the ones sending their girlfriends on scavenger hunts for presents? Then again, Fujin had never been conventional. He’d be a shitty boyfriend for not participating, right?

Since the food was paid for, he left the cafe with Fujin’s note, offering a parting nod to the maître d’. He re-read her clue, and headed for the weapon’s shop by the train station, thinking it was the only place that would apply.

The first present he’d ever bought her was her chakram. It was shortly after they’d met and formed their posse, and the damn thing had cost him nearly all of his savings. She’d punched him for wasting so much of his hard-earned money, but the expression on her face told him it had been worth it. She swore she’d pay him back, he told her not to worry about it, and neither of them brought it up again.

Once he walked into the weapon’s shop, the sound of a bell tinkling overhead prompted the owner to look in his direction. Recognition lit up the old man’s face, though it was unclear whether it was because Fujin had described him, or because of his infamy due to the war. Either way, the owner disappeared into the back room and Seifer shuffled in place, unsure of whether he was supposed to mention the scavenger hunt.

A few minutes later, the old man reappeared, and much to Seifer’s surprise, he was holding Hyperion in his hands. With a reverence that only a fellow weapons-lover would have, he lowered the gunblade onto the cloth that was spread out across the countertop. After he gently caressed the length of the blade, he looked up at Seifer and explained, “Did a few upgrades to her. She should be lighter, easier to handle now. Polished her, too. Pretty beat up after…well, you know.”

Seifer grunted. Hyne, of course he knew. He’d been there at the front lines, held that very weapon to multiple throats. He _knew_.

The old man must’ve sensed that Seifer didn’t want to talk about that particular topic, so he cleared his throat and said, “Anyway, she’s paid for. I think you’ll like her a lot more now.”

“I already liked her before, so that’s sayin’ something. Thanks, old man.”

“Don’t thank me, thank your girl. Oh, she said to give you this, too.” He pulled a crinkled note out of his back pocket, and handed it to Seifer before shuffling into the back room again.

He opened it, and when he read the first line, he let out another laugh.

* * *

_I told you I’d pay you back someday, didn’t I? I knew you wouldn’t take money, so I had to steal your precious baby for a day. I’m surprised you didn’t notice. Maybe your reflexes are getting worse with age?_

_You’ll find your next clue in the hands of friends, in the first place we called home together._

* * *

There was only one place she could mean: Garden.

He let out a groan, and with Hyperion slung over his shoulder, he left the weapon’s shop and headed for the edge of town. It’d been _years_ since the end of the war, but despite the fact that he’d received an official pardon, he’d never really felt comfortable returning to Garden. Cid always insisted that he was welcome whenever he wished to stop by, but it just didn’t feel the same. If it didn’t by this point, it likely never would.

It was a short walk from town to the Garden, roughly an hour or so. With how long Seifer’s legs were, even at a leisurely pace, it only took him 45 minutes to arrive. The same old gatekeeper nodded at him in greeting, and he pushed through the electronic gate, heading for the front entrance. A couple of cadets eyed him as he passed, though the majority of the new class were too young to remember him personally. All they knew of him came from textbooks and history lessons; he was sure Quistis never made him sound good in her lectures.

As soon as he walked into the lobby, a _pop_ came from his left and he was showered with multi-colored bits of confetti. Irritated, he picked a turquoise rectangle off of his shoulder and tossed it to the floor as Selphie bounded into his view.

“Happy birthday, Seifer!” she exclaimed, prompting everyone around them to stare incredulously.

“Hyne, do you _have_ an inside voice?”

“Nope! That would make life boring, and birthdays are definitely _not_ boring.” She bounced up and down on her heels, and he wondered how much coffee she had to ingest in the morning to keep her going.

An annoyed sigh escaped him. He’d been in Selphie’s presence for less than a minute, and already he was fed up with her. She meant well, he knew that, but she was so...exhausting to be around. Just watching her made him feel tired.

Thankfully _—_ and Seifer knew he was desperate to even consider their appearance a blessing _—_ the rest of the group came around the bend, saving him from more solo time with Selphie. Rinoa and Quistis held small boxes wrapped in shiny paper, and Zell suspiciously had his hands hidden behind his back. Trailing after their children were Cid and Edea, but he couldn’t see whether they were holding presents, too. He crossed his arms, feeling apprehensive again.

_I seriously fuckin’ hate surprises_.

As cheerful and welcoming as ever, Rinoa skipped over to him and held out her present. “Happy birthday, Seifer! Here, from me and Squall.”

Seifer looked over her shoulder at his stoic former rival, who shrugged and mouthed, _All her_. He snorted in response, and took the box from Rinoa. “Thanks, Rin.”

“You’re welcome! So, 29 now, huh? Do you feel old yet?” she teased with a wink.

“Isn’t that the one question you’re _not_ supposed to ask?”

“No, no, that’s the question _men_ aren’t supposed to ask _women_. I can ask you that all I want!”

“Whatever you say, Princess.”

Just like he knew she’d react, her face scrunched up in distaste at the nickname. She’d asked everyone to stop calling her that a long, long time ago, but he knew how much it irritated her. Naturally, that meant he continued to do it.

Quistis rolled her eyes at their banter and gracefully glided over to him. She held out her present as well, and said, “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks, Instructor.”

“You don’t have to keep calling me that, Seifer. I’m very obviously no longer your instructor,” she chided, sounded exasperated at him as usual.

“Nah, but you’re somebody’s instructor, so you know, the name sticks.”

“I don’t know why I bother to be nice to you,” she mumbled, backing away to rejoin her circle of friends.

“This is nice?” he mocked.

She crossed her arms and glared at him, prompting him to chuckle. Some things never changed. He held up her present and said, “Really, though. Thanks.”

Her terse expression softened and she nodded in acceptance of his pseudo-apology. By now, they all knew that wrenching an actual “I’m sorry” from him was like pulling teeth.

After a quick hug and a soft-spoken “Happy birthday” from Matron, Irvine stepped forward. He’d been uncharacteristically silent the entire time. After echoing everyone’s sentiment, he handed him another one of Fujin’s notes.

“From your little lady,” the cowboy explained.

“Yeah, I figured,” Seifer replied as he unfolded the note.

With his attention fully focused on his next clue, he didn’t see Zell darting over to him. He’d barely read a couple of words before more confetti flooded his vision, and with a curse, he swatted at Zell, clocking him on the upper arm.

Zell cackled, hopping farther out of Seifer’s reach. “Happy birthday, bro!”

“Was that your version of a present, Chickenwuss?” he asked from between clenched teeth.

The very picture of innocence, Zell pointed at Selphie and insisted, “Her idea, I swear.”

Selphie lunged for Zell, and yelled, “You were supposed to be here when I popped my confetti, dummy! You ruined the whole surprise!”

As the rest of the group laughed at their predictable antics, Seifer and Squall rolled their eyes  simultaneously. It reminded Seifer, albeit uncomfortably, how similar they could be. He cleared his throat and broke eye contact with Squall, concentrating on reading Fujin’s note again.

* * *

_I know how much you hate coming back to Garden, but I wanted you to realize that, even though you may not particularly like them, they’re still your family. Even if Raijin and I weren’t around, you’d never be alone._

_Your final present awaits you at the place you smiled again, where we now call home._

* * *

Touched, Seifer smiled briefly before refolding the note and stuffing it in his pocket. With his presents in hand, he threw a mock salute in the group’s direction and headed back to town. As he walked away from them, he heard another _pop_ , though this time it was faint. The echo of Selphie’s dejected cry followed after him, and he chuckled under his breath. Again, some things never changed.

He hurried back to town, anxious to see what the final stop on this journey held for him. Like all of Fujin’s previous clues, there was only one place she could possibly mean: the last pier in town.

After they’d been reunited, the three of them had returned to Balamb, intent on living a life of uninterrupted peace. He hadn’t yet known about his impending trial, and it had been a brief respite from the hellish days of the war. There were periods of time that he hadn’t been able to remember _,_ and back then, the pain of not knowing had been the centerpoint of his nightmares. Though most of his memories had returned by now, there were still a few he couldn’t recall. Of course, there was also the fact that his dreams were predictable now. He wasn’t sure which poison he preferred.

Shortly after they’d moved back to town, Raijin had insisted they go fishing at the docks. Fujin claimed that it was a waste of time, considering neither Seifer nor Raijin were particularly good at it. They’d gone anyway, and much to Seifer’s annoyance, Raijin caught something before he did.

Frustrated, he threw down his fishing rod, fed up with the activity even though they’d only been there for maybe thirty minutes. He’d been staring sullenly at the dock, when a massive shadow cloaked them in its fold. Glancing up, he spotted Balamb Garden flying overhead, and for reasons he couldn’t identify at the time, he’d smiled. Now, he understood that it had been a combination of things. He’d been relieved that somehow, everything had worked out, despite the colossal mistakes he’d made. He’d also been grateful that he still had his friends, especially considering the way he’d treated them towards the end. All of the lingering emotions from the end of the war had peaked, and he’d smiled.

None of those feelings had changed. He was still grateful that they’d stuck with him, and forgave him for the way he’d acted. He’d hoped that they would, of course, but he didn’t think he’d ever be able to put into words just how thankful he was.

Finally, the harbor came into view and he walked along the stone path, keeping an eye out for Fujin’s tiny frame. He found her on the last pier, standing at the very end of the wooden slats, staring off at the ocean. As he approached her, his boots reverberated on the planks. She must’ve heard, because she turned around with an expectant smile. He thought she was beautiful always, but when she smiled, it was as if the entire world ground to a halt.

He waved, and when he stood just in front of her, she lightly kicked his shin. “LATE.”

“Well, you had me runnin’ around town, so…” Seifer teased.

She rolled her eye before offering his third wrapped present of the day. He set the two boxes he’d been carrying around down on the pier, and took Fujin’s out of her hand as he passed her Hyperion to hold. Curious as to what she could’ve gotten him, he shook it gently, furrowing his eyebrows when he heard the contents shuffling around inside. It didn’t sound overly heavy, and the box was thin and rectangular in shape.

Again, she rolled her eye. Gesturing to the box, she insisted, “OPEN.”

“Just seein’ if I could guess what it was. Geez, you’re an impatient one,” Seifer retorted.

This time, she kicked him a tad bit harder, and he held his leg, even though it hadn’t actually hurt. “Ouch, Fuu. That hurt in more ways than one.”

“Just open it,” she quietly berated him.

“All right, all right.” Deftly, he tore off the wrapping paper and tossed it to the ground, eliciting an annoyed huff from her as she bent to pick up his litter.

Underneath the gift wrap was a nondescript, white box that had been taped shut. After pulling the tape off, he lifted the lid and stared at his present in confusion. He supposed this was why he couldn’t find it earlier. “Fuu, isn’t this _my_ necklace?”

Fujin nodded, and he raised an eyebrow at her. “Thanks…?”

He deserved a medal for getting her to roll her eye at him so many times in one day. She took the box from him and flipped the necklace over, before handing it back. On the opposite side, a date had been engraved into the metal. When he realized that it was the date they’d gone fishing together _—_ after the war, after time-compression, after _Ultimecia—_ he tried and failed to swallow the lump in his throat.

These numbers meant so much more to the three of them than just a date. It represented the turn in their lives, the day that everything changed for the better. To Seifer, it marked the day that he’d let go of his lifelong dream, and found a new one. That day, the epiphany had hit him harder than the loss of Ultimecia’s presence in his mind, and looking at Fujin now, he realized that he’d been an idiot for not seeing it sooner.

She was here with _him_. She’d always been with him, through the ups and downs, through mind-control and misguided fantasies; through a plethora of adolescent mistakes. Despite all the shit he’d done, she still somehow found a way to smile at him, to love him, which was more than he could have ever asked for.

Seifer reached out for her hand, grasping it tightly in his own. Unable to find the words to thank her for so much more than just the present, he simply smiled at her. As always, she knew exactly what he was trying to say, even when he couldn’t bring himself to actually say it. She stepped forward and briefly cradled his cheek with her hand, before tucking herself into his chest.

Softly, Fujin murmured, “Happy birthday, Seifer.”

 

.

.

.

 

That night was the first night he slept peacefully in years, his psyche finally free of the torment he’d experienced every night since the war. There were no dreams involving the endless void, no nightmares, no traces of the woman who’d stolen his mind and body.

Because she was there.


End file.
